When someone finally dismissed him from CTU – with a "You look like hell, Jack, go get some rest" – he didn't go home. He aimed that direction, but his reluctance was a palpable thing. Like someone leaning against him, keeping him away. He finally yielded to that pressure with only a weary mental curse, yanking his SUV into the turn lane and pulling a U-turn.

He'd been to his destination enough times that he didn't need to think about the way. He pulled into the driveway and parked, killing the engine. He closed his eyes for a split second before reaching for the handle and getting out.

The exterior of the house looked the same as it always had. Jack fixated on the door, doing his best to ignore the corner of his brain that was noting possible ambush spots and sniper vantage points. His ears were pricked for every sound.

His knuckles hit the door three times before he remembered the doorbell. He put a hand on the door frame, leaning heavily on it, head bowed. When he heard the lock turn, he pulled himself upright as best he could. Shoulders still hunched with tension, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.

The door opened to reveal Kate Warner. Her warm eyes narrowed with concern when she saw him. "Jack? Are you alright?"

"No." He didn't want to look away from those eyes. How long had it been since someone had looked at him that way? He felt his defenses begin to crumble, and he swallowed hard.

She stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in." She swung the door closed after him without taking her eyes off of him. "What happened?" she asked softly, searching his face.

"Yesterday…" His throat closed over. Yesterday… He couldn't force out the rest of the words. He couldn't say it, couldn't tell her… He sucked in a breath, gasping for air. He felt her cool fingers touch his cheek and realized he'd closed his eyes.

Her arms went around his neck, her voice in his ear murmuring, "Oh, Jack," as she pulled him close.

Something in his chest broke. The first shuddering sob wracked his body, followed by another, and another. He pressed his face into her neck, silently screaming out the pain that was devouring him from the inside, hot tears spilling down his cheeks. His knees gave way and they staggered for a moment before she eased him onto the floor, still holding him tightly.

She rocked him gently, her own shoulders shaking. One hand stroked the back of his head and neck soothingly. She didn't offer any words, and he was grateful – her presence was enough.

There was no stopping the flood once it started. Eventually it ebbed, the sobs subsiding. He could breathe again and he did, drawing in gulps of air. The pressure in his chest shifted, pushing words to the surface. He fought it, shaking his head, but they came anyway.

"Chase is in the hospital," he told her, his forehead pressed to her shoulder. Because of me, he added silently, because of my actions. He shook his head again, strangling a whimper. "Tony's going to prison for treason for saving Michelle. People… So many people died. Good, innocent people." The shaking was back in full force. "I killed a good man with my own hands." Those hands were bunched in Kate's shirt now, but he remembered… "I had no choice," he cried hoarsely.

"I know." Her arms tightened around him. "I know," she repeated forcefully, her voice raw. "You had no choice. You did what you had to do." She pressed her lips to his temple. "It's okay, Jack. You did what you had to do." Whispering, she repeated it. "It's okay."

Her absolution dissolved the last of his defenses. He clung to her, his face buried in her hair, and sobbed.